


Lost Love

by Smart4091



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Love, POV Female Character, POV Thorin, Pre-Smaug, The Lonely Mountain, Thorin Feels, Thorin Has a Crush, Thorin Is an Idiot, Thorin is a Softie, bamf female character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smart4091/pseuds/Smart4091
Summary: What if Thorin’s One was not lost to Smaug, but lost in our world? How did these two come to be, and what will happen when they are blessed enough to find each other again?
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s), Thorin/Original Female Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	1. Racing Against Time

**Author's Note:**

> I am changing a bit of the time line and character ages to fit the story and plot. Let me know what you think! Love feedback!

All that was heard through out the fallen tree truck were the giggles of a young princess. They echoed off the bark like no other and I imagine they were just as loud to the outside world. “Dis I swear you need to hush yourself or they will find us!” 

“I am trying but this is an awful hiding spot it makes me laugh. How can you pick such bad spots?” She questioned, her deep blue eyes piercing back at me through the dark tunnel. The only light seeping through the cracks from the autumn day. 

“It would be a perfect spot if you weren’t alerting the whole forest of our location now. Shhh!” Just as I finally put a stop to her seemingly never ending giggles I hear two sets of heavy boots running through the forest. A gasp from Dís was all it took for me to clamp my hand over her mouth in an effort of silence. 

“I am telling you that I heard her laugh come from this way Thorin.” I heard a hmmm of response and they started to search through the trees and shrubs, the leaves had just started to fall and the slight crunch was all you could hear until. “Gotcha!” Frerin appeared at one end of the log, causing Dís to let out a shriek. “Thorin I found them. Get over here!” I heard a distant enough reply that I knew Thorin wasn’t too close. How he managed to get lost looking for someone is beyond me, I rolled my eyes and started pushing Dís to the other end of the fallen trunk. “Go! Hurry! Make for the entrance and touch the safe guard! Go!”

We scrambled out of the log and tore off through the forest. I managed to get the attention of Dís through the trees that were blurring past us. “Split up!” She nodded in agreement and we took off in different directions all to the same destination. 

I could hear him gaining on me and took the chance to look back. The dark black hair and crooked smirk met me not even 100 yards behind. How on earth did he catch up so fast. I pushed myself harder and harder until I could see the entrance to the Lonely Mountain. I felt a featherlight touch against my hair that was blowing hard in the wind I was creating. I kicked it up another notch with the last bit of energy I had. Adrenaline surging through me I managed to put some distance between us once again. 

Almost nearing the entrance I spotted my target, a burly looking young dwarf doing his guard training. I saw Dwalins eyes grow slightly in fear, for he was not meant to break character on guard duty, which he took very seriously might I add. He is the beloved safeguard today. Just one touch and I’m home free. I pushed harder once again hearing Thorin gain on me. “Go Samantha!!!” I hear from some where in the distance behind me. Dís must have been caught. 

My feet hit the stone road leading to the dwarven gates. Pushing and pushing, I no longer hear Thorins heavy breathing behind me. I turn to check and he’s gone. I slow a bit which could end in my downfall for when I turn back around he managed to go slightly to our right in an attempt to cut me off.

Oh no not today. I spy my chance and take it just as Thorin has placed himself in front of me. Dwalin is standing under one of the smaller dwarven carvings of our ancestors, which is holding a spear. I cut to the right just as Thorin was about to pounce. I volt off of a near bench and grab hold of the stone carved spear and swing down behind Dwalin. I raise my hand and smack my hand on the side of his head, shaved bare on both sides aside from his mohawk. And bless his soul he has yet to break character. 

A large smile takes over my face as I’m panting and looking at an equally out of breath Thorin. His mouth is agape and then I hear it a loud clap, clap, clap. King Thrór was approaching with a broad smile on his face. “Truly a sight my dear, I’m glad someone comes around to give my grandson a run for his coin.” I smile and curtsy. “Thank you my King, he is a formidable opponent as always.” I throw a smirk towards Thorin, as Dís and Frerin approach. 

“Time to depart darling.” I hear my Granddad boom across the yard, on the stone path. My shoulders deflate. This is always my least favorite part. “Can she not stay grandfather?” Dís asked the King with her best pleading eyes. Thorin took the chance to answer “Of course she cannot stay Dís, she has her own home as we have ours.” The frown was deep set onto his face, causing him to look years older. I was confused as to his swift change of mood. Our goodbyes were never permanent and never this hard. I felt a small tighten in my chest. I glanced down at my muddy boots and then over in the direction of my Granddad who was standing stationary near our ponies. 

I raised my eyes to address Dís, “I will return, besides I have to teach you how to best your brothers one of these days if it’s the last thing I do.” I gave her a wink. We both broke into laughter and shared a hug. Frerin and I embraced, “Be careful out there Ging.” A smile crinkled the corner of my eyes, “Always rat.” I looked at Thorin standing with his back to us and his hands clasped behind him. “Come Dís, Frerin, let them say their goodbyes.” The King led his grandchildren away toward the entrance of the mountain. 

I am turned away toward the east. The wind blowing my braids slightly. I can hear her approach, smell her even. A sweet smell that makes me dizzy beyond belief if I think on it too long. I feel her wrap her small arms around my waist, chest to chest, her head tucked under my chin. I lean my head down into her fire red curls. They smell of fresh fruit and honey, she always has a different smell to her, intoxicating. I feel drunk on her when I hold her in my arms, hearing her sweet laughter that swells my chest with pride when I am the reason it graces my ears. “This gets harder and harder every time” I hear the words mumbled into my chest. I deflate a bit. I agree with her but I must not show too much. I must be strong for the both of us. 

I pull back and see her green eyes staring back at me. Green with flakes of amber, the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. I place my rough hand on her smooth cheek. She has no beard or even beginnings of one. Yet I care not. She is the most beautiful creature to me. “Someday it will not be hard for you will be with me by my side. But until that day we will always be with each other.” Her eyes blew just a fraction at my words. I am not one to speak of future plans or thoughts, but this one I could keep to myself no longer. At least not fully. She smiled up at me, “Very well then Thorin, I will see you on your Birthday.” She sent a little wink my way. 

I placed my hands on the side of her head. I tilted her head down and placed a kiss on the crown of her unruly curls. “Samantha! It is time to move.” Her Grandfather spoke across the yard. I released her and watched her sprint to him, he looked at her fondly and placed her on her pony. As they were heading down the stone she turned and gave me a small wave. 

“You two make me sick.” I head come from behind me. Honestly I forgot Dwalin was there, he was doing so well, until. *Smack* “No speaking while on guard” I heard the reprimanded and turned to see Dwalin rubbing the back of his head and his father, Fundin scolding him. I smirked and made my way into the mountain for the night. But not until I watched the two spots fade farther over the horizon.


	2. Chapter 2

Rows upon rows of green. That is all I saw. The little Hobbit Smials, with their round doors, and endless families. Perfect, warm lives. I roll my eyes and growl inward to myself. I do not see how such a creature can have not a care in the world and be so daft to the dangers around them.

The longer I sat on top my pony I thought of how I would tell my company that it was just us. Us few old warriors were to go knock on a dragons doorstep, no Durin’s door, and evict the giant lizard.

I was so focused on my thoughts I didn’t see the two young Hobbits approach.

“Mister?” I heard come from my right, as I look down I am met with two pairs of eyes staring back at me. One set brown, but the other were a dark green. My heart clenched. I answered with a grunt. My face set in stone.

“Are you lost, mister?” The brown eyed hobbit lad asked as he was holding the hand of the green eyed little lass, who was hiding behind him a fraction. Sucking on her thumb, looking at him through her lashes. I shook my head negativity and turned to look back on the horizon.

I heard a distant call and they were off to return to their parents. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath and exhaling.

_Her green eyes looked over the valley under the mountain. Her head on my lap as I leaned back against an old oak tree. She was humming a tune I knew not. She often sang unheard songs and said things others would bock at. But she was a beauty to behold, inside and out. Many saw her beauty, they tried valiantly over the years to grab her attention. She always pushed them off. Eager to befriended them rather than court. She would always tell me courting never crossed her mind, until she met me._

_Her tune ended as she played with the rings on the thumb of my right hand, my left running through her red curls. The silence was once again broken, “Thorin? Can we visit the Hobbits some day?”_

_My brow creased and I looked down at her, she continued to look over the valley. “Why would you want to do that amrâl?” She always wanted to go and do anything and everything beyond the mountain and valley._

_“Because they are small and cute Thorin! So small! Granddad said that they only come up to his hip! Yes I know my Granddad is tall for a dwarf but stil! Thorin that’s so small, like pocket size! They farm fruits and vegetables and make such good baked goods. I want to see Thorin.” By the end of her long winded speech I’m not sure she even took a breath between words she had worked herself to a sitting position on my lap._

_I placed my hands on her hips, pulling her forward. Her legs on either side of mine now. I began kneading her hip bones with my thumb. “Calm.” She was working her bottom lip between her teeth. She had a habit of working herself up in her excitement. I removed a hand from her hip. Gently running my thumb along her lower lip causing her to release it. Her eyes fluttering closed._

_I took my time to look at her. As I find myself doing whenever she is being still long enough to study her. Her skin as light as cream, littered with freckles. I find new consolations in them every time I look. Burning them to my memory. I begin to trace the lopsided crown I found on her right cheek, just under her eye. It is small, but it is there. I have yet to tell her of my new find._

_“That tickles,” she giggles, the sweetest sound to grace my ears. I cannot stop the smile that takes over my face. She opens her eyes and stares back into mine. I move my hand to the back of her head, threading my fingers into her hair. I cannot wait a moment more I crash my lips to hers. Swallowing the sweet moan she releases. She moves closer on my lap. Her core just centimeters from the swell that is beginning in my trousers._

_But as always saved by the bell, or more accurately cockblocked by the Dwalin. “Apart quickly! Your Grandfathers are coming.”_

_Samantha sprang off my lap, smoothing down her hair in the process. I jumped up with an attempt at adjusting myself without drawing attention. Dwalin looked at me from atop his war ram with a smirk. I rolled my eyes and offered Samantha my hand a brought her to her feet._

_Our Grandfathers approached. Her Grandfather addressed me with a nod of his head and said to Samantha, “Darling time to head home. I have work I must complete before the next full moon.”_

_I saw her shoulders sag in defeat. The worst sight to me is seeing her defeated in any way. It pains me, almost as much as her having to leave._

_I turned to see her looking at me with wet eyes. I heard her grandfather say he would wait at the end of the stone path for her. Looking into her eyes I wanted nothing more than to keep her here, safe with me. Every fiber within me wanted to hold her and protect her from anything and everything. But that was not my place, yet._

_When she returns for my birthday celebration I plan to place my beads in her hair and have her by my side forever. Except forever never came for us._

My thoughts consumed me and I managed to take a wrong turn once, possibly twice. I finally found the hobbit hole with the wizards mark. I took a deep breath, *knock* *knock* *knock*.

The sun was streaming down into my open window. The air was crisp. No nightmares plagued me last night. Stretching my arms above my head I took a breath and opened my eyes. The bare ceiling stared back at me. The only warmth in the room created by myself and the dull embers of the fire.

Throwing the blankets off, I jump out of bed. I have two orders I must complete today, along with working on the sword my Granddad gifted me unfinished.

Ever since Granddad passed he told me to finish his work on the blade. “I trust you darling to finish what I started.”

For what seemed like thousands of years I just stared at it. Never wanting to touch the blade. It staring back. Black as the night, and as unforgiving.

I started the work on the blade two years ago. I take my time and I am precise. With every swing of my forging hammer I bring down upon the blade a force my Granddad would always say is beyond what I should possess. Which makes it easy for me to be a blacksmith I suppose. I didn’t choose the classical female roles of sewing or cooking. I choose the dark forge where I felt most at ease. The clank of the hammers on the anvils, the steam releasing from the water buckets as the hot steel breaks through the surface. Home.

I start my coffee and eggs on the wood stove. The rich smell of the coffee beans fill the room. Finishing breakfast, and starting my second cup of coffee. I sit down to start the designs for my current order.

The sun rises and sets. Another day, same as the last. I was told to wait. “Stay here darling work your forge, perfect your fight, and wait. You will know the time to return.” Granddads last words echo in my head daily.

I grab some beers and head for the roof. I lay back, staring at the stars. The beer starting to warm me from the inside all the way to my toes the longer I drink.

The stars never change. They are the same here as the Lonely Mountain. Shining bright for the whole forest to see.

Granddad always said that he chose this spot because it was good distance from the river, with a perfect view of Durin’s crown. And no where near the bustling city.

He said that the people that needed you would know how to find you. Over the years I have created a good clientele, along with Granddads established customers. Forging anything from swords and daggers, to cook pans and skillets. I enjoyed the work, but I always felt like I was meant to do more.

My eyes never drew away from the crown written in the stars. For under it I lost everything. My parents, my love, my second home. All of it lost to that dragon. Burning down everything in its wake, all in the name of gold.

The beer was starting to have its desired effect. The numbness was taking over. With one last look at the sky I climbed down to the window and into the house. Hoping I was lucky enough to get another night of rest.

That night I dreamed of a crown less King. My fingers threading through his dark raven hair. His mouth attaching itself to my heat. My hand gripping his velvet shaft. Our union that we never had, finally together, forever. I woke from my dream sweating and alone. Just as all the years before. Throwing off the blanket I head to the forge. Sleep would not find me again tonight.


	3. Through the Fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to go against a total journey retelling. I just feel like thats a lo t of fanfics on here already. Let me know what you think, or if I should go in and redo the journey a little more in depth. It will pick up more the next chapter:)

My fingers were working her to her peak, hidden in her patch of red curls. Warm, tight, breathing each others air. Moans mixing, never knowing where hers began and mine ended. So close.

Then something kicks my foot. Awaking with a start I’m met with Balin staring me down. “Time to go laddie.” Running my hand down my face and trying to calm my breathing. The hardness in my trousers making itself hard to ignore. 

Sitting up once my mind is clear from the hellish dream. I’m handed a bowl of what I assume to be last nights stew. Dwalin threw himself down beside me. “You look like shit.” 

“I can always count on you to keep me humble Dwalin. Thank you.” His shoulder bumped into mine. 

“I am serious brother.” His stare burning through my skull. I keep my head forward, looking over the camp.

“Just the journey Dwalin, nothing more.” Finishing my bowl I stand and take the bowl to my nephews, who are meant to be washing the bowls before we depart. Which I had to remind them of. 

The rain started that day around noon, not stopping for three days. Keeping moral low and almost unbearable. The hobbit looked like a drowning rat. Shaking my head I turn back to facing the front of the line of ponies. I cannot believe the Wizard insisted on bringing the halfling. Another life I am responsible for in the end.

Dwalin has been riding beside me most of the day. A silent sentinel to my right. When he finally decides to break the silence I am not keen to share the conversation he wishes to have. “It was of Sam wasn’t it. The dreams you keep having?” His voice void of judgement, only concern. 

My hands grip the reigns tightly, knuckles white. I rarely speak of her. Since the day I lost her to the dragon fire, I could count how many times I have spoken about her. Even though she plagues my dreams most every night. I give him a positive nod as his only answer. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “Emotions are not your specialty nor are they mine Dwalin. Leave that to your brother so I only have to ignore one of you, and not feel guilty about it.” Seeing him nod out of the corner of my eye. Continuing our silent ride in the rain. 

The nightmares continued throughout the whole journey. After the trolls we stayed in Rivendell. Every night a dream of Samantha placing a flower crown on my head. The same dream, every night. The smile on her face mirroring the smile on my own I was sure. I would lean in, our lips almost touching. I could almost smell the honey of her hair. Then she would slowly fade away. The dream was reoccurring every night during our stay in Rivendell. The first chance I saw to leave that cursed place I took it. But the dreams only seemed to turn into nightmares from there. 

We were met with the thunder giants and goblins. I learn that Azog still lives. Then the shapeshifter Beorn, and the accursed elves of Mirkwood. The dreams turned to nightmares of her death. Her standing with her Grandfather looking into a store window in Dale. Pointing and talking with her Grandfather, I try to get her attention. It’s like I’m watching from the walls of Erebor, she is so far out of my reach. Then I hear the screams, the dragon fire. She’s gone, swallowed up by the heat. Those dreams take the most from me. Trying to dry the tears before any of the company can see. Eventually turning to avoiding sleep altogether. I take as many watches as I can, avoiding sleep at all costs. 

Watching from the ruins. I hear Bilbo, “It’s dead. Smaug is dead.” Somehow they had slain the beast. I was already off towards the mountain. The need to protect my gold to fierce. I must protect it from them, from everyone. No one will touch even a single piece. 

The battle was raging on outside. Sword against sword, shields clashing. I find myself in the hall of Kings. The floor painted gold, my reflection staring back at me. 

I see her face through the fog that has been clouding my brain. So vibrant and full of life, full of love. Her freckles, her smile as bright as the sun. This is the first time I have gotten a happy memory or thought of her in months. I latch on to it. Never intending of letting it go. The memories hit me full force. Of the journey, of time in the blue mountains, my nephews. 

Visions of my beloved a white dress flowing over her growing stomach. A little hand clasped in her own. A young dwarfling, hair as black as mine, with green eyes of his mother. He stares up at Samantha with a gap tooth grin. My eyes move up, she’s supporting a little dwarf lass on her hip. Black hair like mine once again, with unruly curls just like her mother, possibly more so. Samantha locks eyes with me, bending down to set the little girl down, my little girl. A daughter. Oh Mahal a little girl. My hand closes over my mouth trying to stop the sobs. 

“Go get your Adad.” whispering in her soft voice. My eyes never tore from hers. I felt little bodies attach themselves to my legs. My hands find their way to caress the children’s little heads. Looking up at me with big grins and big beautiful eyes. I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. 

Then I wake up from the dream of all dreams. In the cold mountain, surrounded by bloody gold. Cold and unforgiving. I throw the raven crown with all of my strength. Needing to get it away from me. I had become what I feared most. Sick on gold and power, never again. 

I knew what I had to do. I had to stop all of this. All of the fighting and war. The death brought upon my people by my wrong doing. I take off, I reach the ramparts and all eyes are on me. Waiting, judging. “I know I do no deserve it, but will you follow me... one last time.” Every single dwarf stood, weapons ready, itching for a fight. 

The golden bell broke through the stone wall. The slow deep ring of the bell as it swung. My nephews by my side, my company behind me. War was upon us. Slashing through Orc and Warg flesh. Black blood on my sword, fighting side by side with my kin. Protecting our homeland once again. 

The final fight with Azog was taking everything I had. Just that pale filth and I alone on the ice. He’s standing above me blade pushing against my own. My sword is the only thing keeping his blade from piercing my flesh. I’m running out of strength. I move my sword to the side. The chilling sound of metal sliding against metal. 

His blade pierces my chest, the pain intensifies with each second. Trying to take one last deep breath, I take my blade and stab the pale Orc between his armored skin. With one last deep breath I roll over on top twisting the blade making sure it did it’s job. 

He managed a kick with the last strength he had. Landing the kick to my gut. Sending me flying across the ice. I didn’t realize how close to the edge we were until I felt myself falling. Tears fell from my eyes, I heard my nephews yelling for me. At least they are alive. Fili will make an exceptional King. Better than I, for he will not fall to the sickness I am sure. So many feelings and then nothing. Completely dark, not even the impact of the fall.


End file.
